Please
by Space Dimentio
Summary: He moved forward again, slowly, cautiously, some faint intuitive sense picking up on something wrong; more wrong than what his senses could tell. "Let me help you…" he said softly. "Help me!" Dimentio snarled. "Y-You don't know what you're doing!" - A small Dimigi drabble.


Luigi couldn't begin to describe the complicated, uncontrollable emotions ripping into him from the inside. Beside him was Mario, Peach, Nastasia, O'Chunks, and Mimi. Their clenched fists trembled with rage. His hands were shaking too, much harder, and for different reasons.

A few feet in front of them stood Dimentio, bearing a crazed smile and exuding a dark aura of menace.

He'd been dead for a few years, but someone as tenacious and dangerously clever as him wouldn't _stay_ dead, of course. The second his icy heart began to beat again, he was already causing trouble.

More than trouble.

Much more.

Ruin.

Fire.

Blood.

He was covered in it, his motley in ragged tatters, stained with mud and ash and Grambi knew what else. He didn't look very good at all, like he hadn't bathed in a week or slept in a month. It was downright dismal compared to his former splendor, Luigi thought.

This wasn't normal, even for the deranged fool. What had happened to him? He seemed to have completely lost his mind; the old Dimentio despised such filth.

Luigi pitied him. He saw what the others did not. He saw that the jester was shaking, saw how scared he was under his smile.

He sighed, coming to a decision. He took a step forward, brushing off the restraining hands of his friends. He tried to smile, holding his hands out to show he meant no harm. Dimentio eyed him warily, shifting his weight from side to side as if he couldn't stay still.

The others started to step up beside him, but Luigi gestured for them to stay back. He could feel them staring at him, confused and worried. Doing his best to keep his breathing even, he moved forward again, slowly, cautiously.

As he started to get closer, Dimentio moved back a little, then held his ground. "Y-You… Wh-What are you doing?!" he demanded. "Stay away from m-me!"

Luigi shook his head sadly. "I don't wanna fight you, Dimentio. We can talk this out, can't we?"

"What are you t-t-talking about?!" the jester hissed.

"I remember more than you think, and I know this isn't like you."

"I said, st-stay back! You know nothing!" Dimentio took another step back. Dimensional magic, strikingly erratic and frenzied, flickered wildly around his hands.

Luigi frowned, not failing to notice. He felt something tickle the back of his head, some faint intuitive sense picking up on something wrong; more wrong than what his senses could tell. "Are you in trouble?" he tried. Dimentio's already unbalanced breathing faltered further for just a second. Close. There must be another reason behind this madness than what they thought, a different stimuli for this manic behavior. Luigi knew that Dimentio didn't do anything without a good personal reason. He was calculating, careful; this chaos he'd been causing was not.

He came closer still, until he stood directly before the jester. He could see into the mask's eyeholes, could see the jester's ice-blue eyes wide and dilated with near panic. "Let me help you…" he said softly.

"Help me!" Dimentio snarled. "Y-You don't know what you're doing!"

"Maybe not…" He held out his hand. "But I know that you used to be my friend… I don't want to hurt you."

The jester glanced down at the offered hand, then back up to his face, searching. He was shaking almost uncontrollably now. The others, too far away to help in a timely fashion, tittered in consternation at the word 'friend'.

"Tell me what's wrong… Tell me why you're doing this…" Luigi continued. "Please…"

There was a brief pause as they stared into each other's eyes. Then, Dimentio shrieked, his fist flying forward with the force of a dozen Muths. An enormous blast of wind kicked up dust, obscuring everyone's vision.

Luigi carefully opened one eye, then the other. Dimentio's fist had stopped an inch from his face; the attack had blown past him harmlessly. The jester panted, trembling so violently that he could hardly stand. Head bent, the tassels of his hat falling into his face, he quietly whispered, "He said…"

"Who?" Luigi gently put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Is someone…"

Dimentio nodded. "I don't know, he said… he said he'd get me out of there…b-but only if I helped him…"

"Helped him do what?"

"I-I don't know! As soon as I came back to life, he did…he did something to me… I don't know who he is, I can hardly remember anything!" He looked at his hands, seeing how drenched in blood they were. "Oh-Oh God… P-P-Please!"

Without hesitation, Luigi embraced him, securely holding the jester's head to his chest with a kind hand. "It's ok… It's ok, I'll help you. I won't let him hurt you anymore."

"N-Ngh… You can't… I'm-!" He jerked suddenly, as if something was pulling him. Luigi held on tightly, not letting him go. He had felt something under the jester's hat. He quickly plucked it off, dropping it on the floor, and gasped. Dimentio's fingers grasped desperately to his clothes, digging into his chest and leaving bruises.

"Hold on!" Luigi said as the jester flinched again. His friends had rushed forward, but he ignored them as he firmly grasped the green stalk and pulled with all his might. Dimentio screamed, then fell limp into his arms a moment later. In his fist, Luigi clutched a writhing Floro Sprout. He threw it to the ground and stomped on it.

The plumber cradled the jester carefully, causing him to start sobbing. "I-I'm sorry!" Dimentio cried.

"It's ok… You're alright now… You're safe now…" Luigi murmured, tears of sympathy and relief escaping him.

"I-I didn't know it felt like that… I'm so sorry I-I…"

Luigi just shook his head, resting his cheek in the jester's tangled black hair. He sat, gently pulling Dimentio with him. "I-I'm just glad I could get to you… I wasn't… I wasn't sure if it meant anything to you…"

"Oh, L… Of all things, I didn't want to hurt you…" Dimentio whispered, curling into a shaking ball on the plumber's lap, burying his masked face into the safety of his shoulder.

The other heroes looked at each other. Out of all the things they expected to come of this night, a crying, hysterically apologizing jester was not one of them. O'Chunks and Mimi couldn't decided how to express their shock. Nastasia clutched at her skirt, remembering something she thought she'd imagined so long ago. Mario was especially flummoxed. Luigi had never, _ever_ told him about this apparent friendship with the murderous fiend.

Mario glanced at the Floro Sprout, the bloodied roots of which still searched weakly for a host. Beside him, Peach took his hand, smiling a small tired small as she watched the hero and villain comfort each other, talking in soft, shaken voices. She had known nothing about their friendship either, but it was plain to see that they'd once been rather close. Luigi was brushing his hand over the jester's hair with familiarity, and didn't seem at all perturbed about the intimate contact of thin arms clinging to his waist. Whatever was going on here, questions would have to wait until later, she decided.

Mario frowned, very much worried, but Peach squeezed his hand, shaking her head. "Let them be…"


End file.
